Chapter 182.

Miki was just thinking how she might contrive to keep Bobby in his pageboy outfit for the rest of the day, when Clarissa spoke.
“That outfit looks so good on you, Bobby.  Your aunt says if you want you can keep it on for the rest of the day.”
“Oh…  Yeah, okay…”
“Hooray!” cried Amelia.  “We have our own special pageboy now.  Let’s play weddings, yeah?  I wanna be the bride!”
“No, we have to play a game for it!  And the husband!”
“The groom, you mean.  He’s not a husband before they get married.  Trixie can be the bridesmaid cos that’s what she’s gonna be at her sister’s wedding.  Oh, no…  Don’t cry, Harriet…  You can be a bridesmaid too…”
Miki sat and watched fascinated as Bobby played with the girls, quite as committed to the game as they were.  Clarissa came over and took a seat beside her.
“He gets on well with them, doesn’t he?”
“Yes…  I was just thinking that.  He bright, isn’t he?  Nicole was telling me he was top of his class, and got a place at uni no problem.”
“Yes.  And he took a year off just for Pitt’s Wood.  Well, no, maybe not just for it.  He wanted a break from study, and the boot boy job was right up his street.”
“He’s so fuc-king sexy, Clarissa…”
Clarissa looked sideways at her, and laughed.  “Well, that’s a blunt way of putting it Miki, but yeah, it’s true.  Sexy and naĂŻve.  It’s an irresistible combination.”
“For you too?  I heard he spends most of his time here at present.”
“Yes…”
“Helping your daughter…”
“Yes.”
“To do what?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Why so mysterious?”
“Because…  It’s their secret, and no-one’s allowed to know until the Pitt’s Wood show.  Please don’t ask either of them.”
“Don’t worry.  I wouldn’t.  I’m just curious.”  She smiled.  “They seem to have plenty of energy left.  Why don’t we take them over the road to the park for an hour or two?”
“Good idea.  Nicole?  Miki suggested the park…”

Ten minutes later they were crossing the road.  On the other side the children burst into a run, Nicole and Clarissa and Miki bringing up the rear.  They streamed through the park gates and headed for the playground.  The bunch of little girls, accompanied by a big teenage boy in an arresting costume, attracted a lot of attention and a few jeers and wolf whistles from a group of boys too old for the climbing frame but hanging out in the playground anyway.
“Take no notice of those idiots,” Charlotte said, taking Bobby’s hand.  “They’re just jealous, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I know.  Can’t imagine any of them being invited to be a pageboy at a big wedding!”

When Leighton got up from the table, he contacted Uber for a ride back to his small loft apartment. As the bar lights dimmed, he moved quickly thru the main restaurant, now hoping to evade any more contact with Emily. Frankly, his mixture of deep arousal and an apprehension that events might spiral out of his "control," which deep down, he already knew he was losing, compelled him to get out of there as fast as he could. He needed time to "think."Emily was now calling the shots and Leighton knew it. And as though Emily was reading his mind, Leighton received a text from Her: "Don't worry your little self about cooking for me so early in our budding relationship. Instead, my restaurant will be sending over some food to my place. That way the four of us can just hang out, enjoy a few drinks together, and have some fun. You can fix dinner after we have gotten to know each other better. Instead of 5:30, Sara will pick you up at seven. Don't make her wait. Dorian, Allen, and I are looking forward to our evening with you. See you Monday, Leighton. Don't cancel on me. Em." Leighton was at least relieved he wouldn't have to cook for everyone. Still, he wondered, why was this beautiful woman attracted to him? Women this beautiful had always been beyond Leighton's reach. Besides, women like Emily and Dorian had always intimidated him. And yet Leighton knew he'd do just about anything just to be in their company. The next few days saw him start to blow off some of his classes until the weekend came and went. Sunday evening he received a simple text reminder from Emily. Monday, Leighton wore a pair of black dress pants and a light blue long sleeve dress shirt for dinner. His long thick shoulder-length blonde hair fell freely. He shaved, even though he had only a little bit of light blonde "peach fuzz." He wore simple brown loafers on his smallish feet. The little man was waiting outside at 6:45. He didn't want to be late. He'd even stopped at a florist and splurged on a dozen long-stemmed red roses. Maybe...just maybe...he wished...Leighton would have his first girlfriend...even though Emily had suggested(?) that She and Dorian were "girlfriends." Sara pulled up just before seven pm. She, too, was beautiful. And tall. And she also was wearing heels with her standard  black chauffeur's uniform. "Mr. English?" "Yes," answered Leighton, "Good! I'm Sara. I'll be taking you to Emily's and Dorian's little get-together." With that, Sara opened the back door of the black stretch limo, offering to take the roses as he climbed into the back, and handing them back to him once he had gotten situated inside his opulent ride with the beautiful chauffeur. After a 10-minute ride to Hudson Yards, Sara let him out in front of a magnificent high-rise and past the doorman. Leading him to a separate Penthouse Elevator, he rode  straight to the top. Knocking on the door, he was stunned by his "greeter." Standing demurely in front of him was...he surmised...Allen. At least, he thought (s)he was Allen. Dorian's intern at her office and her "personal assistant, when She needed one." Leighton swallowed hard. Allen had been sissified...

Chapter 179.

The boy had simply disappeared.  In his place was a pretty girl – a well-built one, but undeniably a girl.  As he swept into the garden with a rustle of latex skirt against latex bloomers, the girls gave a universal gasp.
“Bobby!” cried MĂ©lisande.  “You look…gorgeous!”
His bloomers peeped cheekily out from under his shortened skirt.  He strode proudly between Charlotte and Trixie, out into the sunlight, and did a little twirl, revealing then right up to the yellow waist frilling.  Then he played coy, putting his fingers to his lips and pretending to be embarrassed.  But all his initial reticence had evaporated now.  He was out for maximum attention.  One moment he moved like a fashion model, the next he skipped like a little girl, or minced like posh lady.  Miki shook her head slowly.
“What an ego…  What an actor!”
He finished with a final flash of his bloomers, and scurried back towards the house with applause sounding in his ears.
“Next, mesdames, I shall appear as…Bobby the Boot Boy!”

He hurried back to the bedroom to change.  Nicole left him to it.  She turned to Clarissa.
“Well, well.  Not what I was expecting.”
“Nor I.  It opens up all sorts of possibilities, n’est-ce pas?”
“Well, I guess.  He’s behaving like a real show-off today.”
As for Bobby, it was as if he had suddenly discovered celebrity.  He had a tummy full of butterflies, but they were excited butterflies, not anxious ones. 
“They want more, and they’ll get it,” he was thinking.  “Not only did I give Mellie her best present, but I’m providing the entertainment, too.  I really had them cheering and laughing, didn’t I?  I just love that feeling…  All eyes on me, the cameras, everything…  Miki likes me too…  She’s pretty cool, actually.  Wow, she made me so hot before.  If we hadn’t been at a kids’ party…  Not Mellie, I mean.  She’s not a kid like the others…  But Miki’s pretty sexy.  If she asked me…”
“Bobby?  Need any help?”
“No auntie.  Won’t be a minute…”  He quickly dusted his little blue and yellow pants with rose-scented talc.
“They seem tighter than I remember.  Guess I’ve grown a bit.”  He pulled on his spandex “Boot Boy Bobby” shirt, his short yellow socks and blue trainers with yellow laces.  Finally his little yellow latex gloves with blue frills at the cuffs, and his cap.  He looked in the mirror.  Only then did he experience a momentary frisson of doubt.  He took a mental step back.  Was it not rather…sissy?  He looked at his little frilled pants. The halved latex, blue on the right and yellow on the left, was so fine that, stretched taut over the flattened mound his boyhood, it became almost translucent – well on the yellow side at least.  Cheeks burning he worked it across, away from the blue heart welded to the yellow pane, across to the blue side.  There, that wasn’t so bad…was it?  Was he getting cold feet all of a sudden?
He might even, at that late stage, have chickened out, had not Clarissa walked in at that very moment, after a perfunctory knock.
“Bobby, come on.  Everyone’s waiting.  My goodness, you look great!  I’d forgotten how smart your uniform is.”
“It is…?”  He peered at her face – but there wasn’t even a hint of amusement or mockery.
“Trixie and Rochelle can’t wait to see you.  Oh, your belt.  Don’t forget you belt.  Here, I’ll do it for you.”
She threaded the blue rubber belt through the loops, and fastened the yellow plastic buckle.
“There you look a million dollars.  Let’s go.”

Whilst she been away, Nicole had been issuing whispered instructions to the girls. 
“Listen girls – this is important.  I don’t know what’s come over Bobby today.  He’s normally very shy about his outfits.  So we don’t want to spoil things, now do we?  No giggling, nothing to make him feel self-conscious.  All right?”
They nodded eagerly.
“By all means tell him he looks great, but let’s keep him happy and confident, yes?  Then you’ll get to see his final outfit too.”
So when he appeared in the living room, still feeling unsure, the girls all turned around and started cheering.  Relief flooded over him.  Tugging the blue frilling down as well as he could – though it simply rode up again – he jumped the threshold into the garden and faced the row of upturned faces with hands on hips.
“Hi, girls.  Hope you like my uniform!  In a few weeks I’m gonna be the official Pitt’s Wood Boot Boy!  Amazing, eh, Rochelle?”
Rochelle’s eyes were nearly falling out.
“Yeah!  Amazing!”  (Though whether she had in mind the position, or his uniform, was uncertain.)
Trixie came to the rescue. 
“You look so smart, Bobby!  Where did you even find such a great outfit?” 
“My aunt got it for me.  She knows a special secret manufacturer.  And Miss Poole, who’s the principal – the boss – of Pitt’s Wood, she had to approve it too.  Miss Poole is a very important lady.”
“Will you be cleaning her boots too?” asked Harriett, wide-eyed.
“When she sees what a good job I’m doing, I’m sure I will.  She’s financed everything, hasn’t she, aunt?”  Nicole nodded.  “She’s even built me my own parlour.”
“Wow, Bobby!  You’re gonna be very important, ain’t you?” gasped Rochelle.  “Would outside people – people like us, fr’instance – be allowed to visit you?”
“I’m not sure…”
“They will, Bobby,” said Clarissa.  “But he’ll have to charge you, Rochelle.  And we don’t know how much it’s going to cost yet.”
“I’m gonna save up then!”
“Me too!”
“I’m sure there’ll be discounts for students,” remarked Nicole.  “Bobby,” she added, “do a turn and show the girls the alternating panels on your shorts.”
He did as he was bid.
“I like the “B” for Bobby inside that little heart,” said Amelia.  So cute!”
“I like your little rubber gloves, Bobby,” added Trixie. 
“I have to wear those when I’m working,” replied Bobby, importantly.  “I have a special case, too, with all my brushes and polishes and things.  And kneepads, cos I’ll be kneeling a lot.”
“Yes,” exclaimed Mélisande, “a lot of customers might be in a hurry, so they’ll keep their boots on, and sit in a nice comfy chair, and Bobby will clean them like that.”
“Well, it’s not only that they may be in a hurry,” Bobby corrected her, “but it’s much easier and more efficient to clean boots that are being worn.  They can’t move and they can’t flop about.”
“Has Bobby ever cleaned your boots, Mellie?” asked Charlotte.
“Oh yes, once or twice.”  She smiled.  “Once at a big party…”
Bobby, not wishing to be reminded of that, quickly changed the subject.
“Yes, as I was saying, my uniform was quite expensive, wasn’t it auntie?  The latex has to be specially tough so it won’t tear…”
“Yes, it’s true.  Bobby, come here.”  She couldn’t resist it.  She went over, took a leg frill between finger and thumb, stretched it, and let it smack back on his thigh.  Everyone laughed – except Bobby.
“Ow!  That hurt!”
“Nonsense.  I’ll do it again.”
“No!”
He took off down the garden, Nicole in hot pursuit.  Soon the girls had joined in, and after a short chase he was brought down and jumped on by all of them.  He at least managed to turn onto his tummy before they pinned him down; after which MĂ©lisande climbed astride him and, with thoughtful magnanimity, invited her friends to smack his bottom as much as they liked.

Chapter 177.

As usual in these situations, Bobby knew very well he had two options; either to sulk and dawdle, which is probably what Miki wanted, so she could make fun of him and force him to do everything over again; or to play along with a good grace, and conceal his frustration.  And as usual, he decided to put on the act, and did the best imitation of a fashion model he could muster, swinging his hips and adopting such a supercilious air that he actually looked rather impressive.  He tried not to think about all the photos and videos that were being made, and to whom they would be shown in the coming weeks and months. 
If he thought he was going to get away with a couple of circuits he was soon disabused.  The worst bit was posing in front of them all while their cameras devoured his embarrassment.
“Smile, Bobby!”  “Make a peace sign!”  “Hold the frills!”  “Do a little dance!  The latex gleams so nicely in the sunlight…”  “Bobby!  Hands behind your back!  Stop being so shy…”  (That was Nicole.) 
Strangely, however, his embarrassment began to lessen, and his ego began to take over.  He really seemed to be a hit.  Okay, so they were mostly young girls, but there was no denying they found him handsome and attractive.  His body was quite muscley now, from all the pony training.  He started to show off a bit, flexing his muscles and indulging in what he imagined were cool dancefloor moves.  He was so taken up in himself, he failed to see the sniggering, and when Rochelle suggested they play some music for him, he was merely flattered.  Clarissa had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing out loud.
“Oh my god,” she whispered sideways to Nicole, “he’s really getting into it.  Honestly, if he could see himself…  And that outfit…  Without the skirt…well…it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”
“I know, Clarissa.  He can be so vain, sometimes.  Doesn’t he realise these videos the girls are taking…  I mean, they’re not going to keep them to themselves, are they?”
“No…by the time he starts his job, he’s going to be famous…”
“I think it’s time for a change.  Bobby?  Bobby!  Time for your next costume.  Come on.”
A chorus of dismayed “Ohs” from the spectators.  But Nicole insisted.  She took him by the wrist and led him inside.
“I was just getting warmed up, auntie…”
“Yes, I could see…  Now, time for your pretty dress…”
“Cool!  I’ll show them what a great girl I can be…”
“I’m sure you will, darling…”

"Excuse me for now, Leighton. I need to touch base with the manager in her office to notify her that you will be calling her before noon tomorrow with your shopping list. Sara will pick you up at your place, promptly at 5:30. She will be driving a black limo. Don't keep her waiting. I can't wait to experience your culinary expertise while the four of us have a chance to get better acquained. With that, Emily winked and blew a girly kiss from her red lips directly at Leighton. Quickly checking the hem of her short black sweater dress, the click clacking of her 5-inch heels against the hardwood floor resonated the sound of authority, power, and Femininity. Leighton was sweating. His little heart palpitating. And his mind a myriad of thoughts and even trepidations: What had he just gotten himself into? What would he prepare for dinner? What if it didn't meet Emily's expectations?She was Beautiful. She was intimidating. He just couldn't...no, wouldn't be able to resist her. She was going to buy a new Dress. Would it be as Feminine as the Red satin minidress with a flared skirt hiding three red tulle pettilayers? Or like the body-hugging short sweater dress she had worn tonight? Would he ever get to see her apply her lipstick directly in front of him again, so matter-of-factly? Did she do it purposely? And then there was Emily's tall blonde "girlfriend." Dorian. Her lavender mini length boucle skirt suit with the front pockets on both her miniskirt and her matching jacket. Her 5-inch heels. Both of these beauties towered over Leighton's short smallish frame, especially when they were in heels. And who was this "Allen." Dorian's "personal assistant, when she needed him?" Emily described him as "sweet." Emily's reference to "stronger drinks," citing "Pink Ladies."  Now Leighton referenced back to his extensive late night internet search history: "Forced Feminization;" "Sissification;" and "Petticoating." And, of course, the pink umbrella in his Shirley Temple. With the vanishing ballerinas, tutus, and the "Cinderella" logo. The Shirley Temple bought for him by Emily and her girlfriend, Dorian...